My parents afford me some freedoms that I would never have been allowed before; coming and going as I please, not having to give times that I'll be back or say who I'm meeting an where. I can turn around and say 'in 12 hours I'm going to travel across the country and I'll see you in a few days time' and that's alright. But at the same time, I can't use the house like it's my own. I can't just invite friends round or use the ingredients in the cupboard to do experimental cooking with. The things I do here are monitored, even if that monitoring is not expressed verbally.
It's an odd situation to be in, being used to living independently and then being back and part of the household. Being expected to contribute equally and act in line with the traditions and customs that are established here after having forged my own ways of doing things that I'm comfortable with. It's hard but it's good practise for sharing the house with the girls next year where we will all have to agree on cleaning and washing up and drying our clothes. Anything involving the communal areas we will have to navigate together. Only in my own room can I have control.
And I've started imagining it. The key phrase I shall be channelling when organising my room is 'oasis of calm'. I'm thinking very zen, very white, blue and light wood, nautical, minimal, tidy and clear. I don't want clutter everywhere, bits and bobs with no homes. I've bought a few little glass jars and am going or get some under-bed baskets for me to organise things into so I can have clear surfaces and space. A tidy room is a tidy mind.
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